


Money Shot

by EsmyDupone



Category: Veronica Mars (Movie 2014), Veronica Mars (TV), Veronica Mars - All Media Types
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2014-09-03
Updated: 2014-10-23
Packaged: 2018-02-16 01:23:50
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 15,926
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2250636
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/EsmyDupone/pseuds/EsmyDupone
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Veronica will do anything to capture the money shot. A photo that says 1,000 words. Snapshots of specific moments in Logan and Veronica's life. Mostly fluffy. Mostly future-fic.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Bedtimes Stories

Disclaimer: Everything belongs to Rob Thomas. I got the name Emma from another fic I read a while ago, and liked it. Mild Spoilers for everything including books.

UPDATE: updated to fix a few errors and polish up some stylistic gaffs.

 

**Chapter 1 – Bedtime stories**

"Tell me a story, Daddy."

Logan paused in tugging the covers of the duvet up to his little son's chin and sighed. He had hoped that a full day's worth of traipsing across the most magical place on Earth would have tired the kid out enough to fall straight asleep. Big honey brown eyes stared up at him -replicas of his own - gleaming with enthusiasm. The lips were smiling, the head was tilted and Logan was powerless. _Damn genetics_. He sat down on the bed and let his four year old cuddle up into the crook of his arm.

"I'm sorry bud. We didn't bring any books with us."

"Just tell any story then, a good one, a brave one," the little voice chirped brimming with confidence that if a story was requested, his father would provide the best.

The small brown head suddenly popped up and turned to the bed next to his. "What kind of story do you want, Emma?" said the boy as he fixed his eyes on the blonde sitting imperiously amid several fluffy pillows and one recently acquired stuffed unicorn. 

7 year old Emma Echolls ignored her brother as she continued nodding along to the Frozen soundtrack on her iPod. The unicorn, in his place of honor by her side, was an impulse buy.

Emma had been dead set on procuring an Elsa doll the entire trip to Florida but as she marched up to the register with her mother to finalize the purchase, she spotted the unicorn in the "on sale" plush toys bin. Emma had stopped in her tracks. There was something about the pure whiteness of his soft fur, the gentleness in his eyes and the gleam of that golden horn that possessed Emma. She ducked out of line, plucked him gingerly from the bin and asked her mother with pleading eyes to buy him instead of Elsa.

Emma had to admit she was slightly surprised that her mother, with only a smirk and a nod, placed the Elsa doll back on the center display shelf and bought the unicorn instead. She then turned to her daughter and said, "It was a good choice, sweetie. Did you know? Unicorns save lives." Emma looked at her confusedly and shrugged. She then ran off to show her new purchase to her father and brother, not noticing that her mother ring up Elsa and Anna at the register, sneaking them into her bag to wrap up at Christmastime.

"Emma! Did you hear?" her brother demanded, "I _said_  what kind of story do you want?" 

His sister pulled the earbuds out and turned to her little brother with a look of long suffering patience.

"You can have whatever story you want, Sammy." Said Emma graciously. "I'm too old for bedtime stories now."

Sam's eyes were wide with disbelief at the unexpected amount of free will being offered. It was not customary for Emma to allow her baby brother to make any decisions when she was around.

Logan suppressed a chuckle and raised an eyebrow.

"You sure, sweetie? I think your old Dad has a few good tales left to tell."

Emma simply hunkered back down into her pillows, threw her arm around her unicorn and put her earbuds back in.

Logan turned and smiled at his younger child.  "Hey Sam, since we're at the Magic Kingdom and we've met lots of princes and princesses and brave heroes…how about I tell you a special story about a brave knight and how he won the heart of the beautiful lady?"

"Does he fight a dragon?" inquired a hopeful Sam. After a whole day spent following Emma around while she posed cheerfully with each and every Disney princess she encountered, Sam wasn't sure he could listen to more princess tales without at least one dragon to spice things up.

"Absolutely, dude! Would I disappoint you?"

"Okay then!"

Sam snuggled down further into his covers and looked up expectantly with a smile.

Logan began, "Alright…so, once upon a time in a far away land called…called….Pluto – "

"That's a planet, not a kingdom, Daddy" chimed a slightly suspicious voice from the adjacent bed.

Logan smirked. _There we go_. He knew his daughter never missed out on a good story or an opportunity to correct someone.  _Remind me to limit her Discovery Channel exposure_ , he thought as he rolled his eyes internally. _She is her mother's daughter after all_.

"I thought you were too old for stories, Em?"

"I can't help it if I hear you, my song ended" said Emma as she turned away again, feigning disinterest.

"Well then, I think I remembered wrong, it was a far away land called … Alpha Centauri – " Logan paused, gauging his little girl's strangely vast knowledge of astronomy. Emma appeared either satisfied with the probable existence of this pretend kingdom or disinterested in the tale.

"…and Alpha Centauri was the home to a beautiful princess named Princess Rosebud and her brother Prince Donut..uhh…ald. Prince Donald. Princess Rosebud and Prince Donald lived in a crystal castle with their parents King Jacob and Queen Celestina. Now, Rosebud's best friend in the whole world was Lady Virgo whose father was the Sheriff of Alpha Centauri and Prince Donald's best friend was Sir Leo the Valiant, son of the rich and famous Lord Silverscreen. The four of them were always together and were the best of friends. What's more, Prince Donald was in love with Lady Virgo and Sir Leo loved Princess Rosebud."

Sam frowned, still too young to understand romantic relationships. Other than his mother and sister, he wasn't sure he especially liked any other girls of his acquaintance. They all tended to be very loud and moved around very fast. It made him a little nervous.

"Then, one day, the unthinkable happened!"

Logan paused here, dramatic tension was paramount if he was going to captivate his audience.

Sam's forehead unfurled and he pulled frantically at his father's sleeve, "What?! What happened, Daddy?" he cried, fully reengaged with the story.

"Princess Rosebud vanished without a trace!"

Sam let out a horrified, "oh no!" and Logan thought he heard a tiny gasp nearby as well.

He glanced out the door toward the living room of the suite where his wife had been working on her laptop. He wondered if she could hear them. If so, she didn't lift her head from her computer, but Logan noticed that her fingers lay still across the keyboard. 

_Audience, consider yourself captured._

"Is Prince Leo going to save Princess Rosebud? Did she get took by the dragon? Is he going to kill the dragon?"

"Taken, Sam, 'did she get taken' and it's SIR Leo, bud. Leo's a knight, a knave, a rogue; he can't be held down by princely duties. Princes are lame anyways. Knights are cool." Sam responded in affirmation, nodding along to grammatical and life instruction both.

"Now," whispered Logan, "the whole kingdom was overcome with grief over the loss of Princess Rosebud. Prince Donald shut himself up in his room and didn't talk to anybody anymore; it was like the old Donald had disappeared along with his sister. Sir Leo on the other hand, was angry. He was furious that he couldn't protect Princess Rosebud and didn't know who or what took the princess. He wanted somebody to pay for what happened and he started being very mean to all the people around him."

"He was mean because he was angry and he was angry because he was sad?" observed Sam sympathetically.

 _From the mouths of babes_ , thought Logan as he hugged his son just a little bit tighter. That particular understanding took him various counseling meetings with Ms. James and several sessions with the Navy psychologist to figure out. Now here was his 4 year old, laying out all of Logan's post Lilly neuroses in a voice that still held a trace of his baby lisp. 

"Exactly, bud, you nailed it. Well, unfortunately, Sir Leo found the perfect person to be mean to…because he was sad of course…Lady Virgo. He called her names and spread lots of nasty rumors about her. Now, because Princess Rosebud's disappearance was so strange and mysterious the Sheriff of Alpha Centauri, Lady Virgo's father, had to investigate what happened."

"Like Grandpa and Mommy?"

"Yup, just like them." Logan agreed. "Well, the Sheriff found some clues, like Mommy and Grandpa do, and all the clues said that the King and Queen themselves were lying about Princess Rosebud's disappearance! So the good Sheriff, stood out in the town square and told all the people that he thought the King and Queen were bad people."

"Did the King and Queen get mad at the Sheriff?" inquired Sam, a little worried for the good Sheriff. He already imagined this Sheriff in his head. He was short, stocky, with kind eyes and a wide smile. He even like the Padres for some reason.

Logan continued with his story, "Oh yes! The whole town was furious that the Sheriff dared say their beloved King and Queen were bad. They took the Sheriff back to the castle and had the King lock him up in the dungeon."

"Oh no!" cried Sam, already attached to his kind eyed Sheriff. "Why did they do that? They should let him out. It's not fair."

"Nope, it wasn't fair. But don't worry, Sammy boy, the Sheriff had a young champion on his side. Lady Virgo, who was the best daughter in the whole world, was determined to prove that her father was right and get him out of the dungeon. You see, Lady Virgo had a plan to set her father free. She was going to find her missing best friend, Princess Rosebud, all by herself."

"She's very brave."

"Well, you asked for a brave story."

"I wasn't expecting the girl to be brave, I thought Prince…I mean, Sir Leo the Valiant was gonna save the Princess and kill the dragon."

"Neither was I, buddy, neither was I. But let us not fall prey to gender stereotyping, son and never underestimate the women in our lives."

"What's 'gender steerotopping'?"

"Do you want to hear about how Lady Virgo freed her father or do you want to learn new words?"

"story," was the emphatic reply.

"Well, Lady Virgo decided to become a knight and go on a quest to find Princess Rosebud. She cut off her long golden hair, put on armor and started wearing really butch boots."  Logan thought he heard a small snort come from the sofa, but didn't look up.

"So, on Lady Virgo's quest to find Princess Rosebud, she had to solve lots of mysteries and help lots of people. But the first thing she did was get revenge on Sir Leo for all the mean things he did to her. And you know what she did? She planted a bong in his locker and got him in huge trouble!"

Wide brown eyes blinked up at Logan in confusion.

"Err-she put something bad that he wasn't supposed to have in his room and when he got found out, he was in big trouble. So much trouble that Lord Silverscreen, his father, took his favorite yellow horse away. Sir Leo was so mad at Lady Virgo that he took a big stick and smashed up her favorite carriage."

"They really hated each other. Didn't they?"

"Yup, but you know what, that's not how the story ends… this is the story of how Sir Leo and Lady Virgo fall in love and save the kingdom."

"What?! No way."

"Yup, it sure is. Hold on tight, Bud, cause this story's a doozy."

OoOoO

Logan had finally settled Sam into bed and his tired little eyes had finally given in to exhaustion somewhere between Lady Virgo rescuing 101 stolen puppies from the evil dognapper and Sir Leo the Valiant slugging an evil royal agent trying to capture Lady Virgo at the Castle Camelot.

He bent over Sam's head and dropped a soft kiss on his forehead. As he turned to leave a small voice whispered, "psst. Psst! Daddy!"

Logan turned around to see his daughter poking her head above the covers. He walked over to her bedside and smiling, sat down. 

"That story you were telling Sam…it's you isn't it? You and Mom?"

"What makes you think that?" smirked Logan, proud of his precocious progeny. He couldn't take credit for Emma's bright mind, he'd always attributed his children's intelligence to their mother; Veronica was the brain with the good grades and Ivy League education. Still, his heart could almost burst with pride in how damn smart they were.

Emma couldn't hide a bashful grin, "I asked Mom once about her first kiss." She narrowed her eyes concentrating on remembering her mother's exact words, "She told me she first kissed… her true love…at the Camelot. And it was…um…epic?"

"I asked her if it was you, Daddy, but she wouldn't say. It was you, though! You just said so!" Emma's eyes were sparkling with romantic fervor. She was at the happiest place on earth and had just stumbled on her parents' own fairytale. No seven year old could ask for more.

"I plead the fifth. That means I can't say anything. You'll just have to live in suspense and figure it out. I've got lots more stories of Lady V and Sir Leo the Valiant."

Emma rose out of the covers, all pretense of being too mature to bedtime stories forgotten by the wayside. "What kind of stories?"

"Real happily ever after doesn't end with a kiss at the Camelot, Ems. The path of true love never did run smooth. Oh there's the story of how Sir Leo was accused of murder and Lady Virgo had to clear his name…uh, twice. There's the story of how Sir Leo teamed up with an exiled gang leader to take down the new evil gang leader. There's the story of how Lady Virgo took down an evil attacker with her trusty unicorn…."

"EEEEKKKK!" screeched Emma, clutching her new unicorn tightly in glee. "Just like mine!"

"Shhhhh….your brother's sleeping," Logan shushed in a frantic attempt to calm his daughter. If she woke Sam and they both got too excited to sleep, he'd never hear the end of it from their mother. "Settle down, and have sweet dreams of Lady Virgo and Sir Leo, okay, baby girl? Tomorrow night, we'll sit down and I'll tell you another story. We'll start with the unicorn."

Emma nodded, settling back down and obediently shutting her eyes. Logan dropped a kiss on her forehead to match her brothers.

*click*

Logan whirred around to see the small figure of his wife at the doorway, snapping a photo of him tucking their daughter into bed.

"Now that's money," said Veronica, grinning widely.

He grinned back and made his way over to her, shutting the door behind them and pulling her into his arms.

OoOoO

"Someone alert the Pulitzer Committee, we may have an award winning biographer on our hands."

Logan shrugged, "I sent the nomination weeks ago."

"And no reply? Surely there must be some oversight."

"Oh you know, the oppressive regime doesn't respect true talent."

Veronica giggled and wrapped arms around his neck, planting a kiss on his lips. She then pulled away and looked at Logan intently.

"I didn't know Deputy Leo was such a hero in your eyes," Veronica remarked with feigned surprise.

"Deputy Who?" remarked a puzzled Logan.

"I forgot, you were too wasted to remember him from the Total Eclipse of the Heart Dance. Nevermind, he and I dated for a little bit before you and me in high school. He even helped with Carrie's case. But either way, I am impressed you have him as your male lead. How self-sacrificing of you."

"Hey, hey, hey, I'll have you note that pseudonyms were used to protect the sensitive nature of the characters' true identities. Therefore it would be impossible for Mr. Deputy to have made such an obvious appearance. Anywho, Sir Leo's alias was selected to reflect his lion-like qualities...you know, bravery, power and overall irresistible masculinity."

"uh huh…irresistible, eh? And Lady Virgo?

"Clearly her virginal piety."

They sat down on the couch and Veronica put her laptop away, placing her legs up on Logan's lap. He promptly took her boots off and rubbed her aching feet.

Veronica tilted her head back on a pillow and threw an arm over her eyes. "Thanks babe, that feels awesome."

"I told you to wear sneakers. Disney hath no mercy for those who walk her convoluted pathways in boots."

"My boots are not butch by the way," said Veronica, lifting her arm to glare at Logan. "I resent that misrepresentation of my person."

"I have to report events as I see them."

Logan leaned back into the cushions as well, "I'm exhausted. Why the hell did we agree to this trip anyways?"

"I plea temporary insanity due to the love of one's children," groaned Veronica.

The truth was, Emma was feeling rather put out since Hunter graduated high school early and went off to the music conservatory. Ever her mother's daughter, she coped by distracting herself in with projects. So she hit the internet. Hard. Emma's newfound obsession with all things Frozen led her straight into the discovery that there was a SECOND Disney location in Orlando that reportedly had a parking lot that could fit all of Disneyland California. She became a girl on a mission. She begged her mother, shamelessly employed her brother's doe eyes, and used all of her Daddy's little princess wiles to cajole her parents into taking the Echolls family on a vacation to Disney World Orlando.

"Californians are not meant to come to Florida. This humidity is ridonkulous. I look like Wallace circa 2008," bemoaned Veronica.

Logan nodded in sympathy. "Seriously, why the hell is this placed called the Sunshine State? It rains every day. Randomly. Rains when it's sunny for fu—god's sake. And there's no surfing."

The two sat in companionable silence for another moment, before Logan remembered something, turned to Veronica and asked, "Hey, so why did Emma pick a stuffed unicorn? I thought this whole trip was to procure some Elsa doll she was set on."

"What can I say? My offspring selects well. I guess she couldn't resist the unicorn. Don't worry, in case she changes her mind on the ride home, I bought Elsa and Anna. Tantrum avoided."

"I'm sorry, and _I_ _spoil_ her?" Logan shook his head. Veronica loved to whine about how Emma had Logan wrapped around her delicate little pinky finger, but in truth, she was pretty hard not to love and all the adults around her had fallen victim to her charms at one point or the other. Keith was the only one who made no effort to hide his lack of self-will when it came to Emma.

"So I guess the dream of Elsa is dead for now," sighed Veronica.

"I liked Anna better anyways," replied Logan.

"Really? I thought you would've gone for the voluptuous blonde in the curve hugging slinky dress."

"Nope. I prefer Anna. Petite. Determined. Feisty. Reminds me of someone I know." Veronica couldn't help but blush.

Suddenly, Logan groaned. "We probably should have pushed for the Elsa doll. At least that one had a readymade name. No call signs necessary."

There was a tradition in their household of giving all stuffed animals call signs. Ever since it had to be explained to Emma that while Daddy was Daddy, his friends used a "call sign" when he was at work on his airplanes; she was adamant that all new family members should have a call sign. While Emma was satisfied to name Sam "lil Bro" the stuffed members of the family often received additional nomenclature, not always flattering.

Veronica frowned. "What? What's wrong?" She got up, went to the fridge, got a can of diet coke before sitting down again. She opened the can and started to take a sip.

Logan's eyes remained closed as he muttered, "…don't know how I'm going to explain this to your dad."

He then picked himself up from the sofa and pulled Veronica along with him. Her socked feet softly padded to the kids' room and Logan cracked the door open. "What?" cried Veronica. Logan put a finger up to his lips. "what?" whispered Veronica. She took another sip of her coke.

He tilted his head toward a sleeping Emma, still clutching her unicorn.

"I'd like to introduce Mr. Unicorn Echolls, callsign – 'Horny'."

Diet coke burned as it sprayed through Veronica's nose and covered the front of Logan's shirt.

 

A/N: Reviews and constructive criticism appreciated! :D I have a whole list of "pictures" that I intend to write chapters about. Next up, " Chapter 2 - Pears."

EDIT: Actually, the "Pears" story is not as fleshed out as I'd like it to be, so I'm working on posting a different "snapshot" entitled "Taking out the Trash." It's a favorite of mine.


	2. Taking Out the Trash

**A/N: I know I had promised a story about "Pears" but you'll have to wait, it's just not ready. Hope you enjoy this nonetheless, I personally think it's better. Some language, I hope I've kept it PG-13, but my judgment is questionable in that area. Google says I'm allowed one F bomb. I could be a sailor. Which is fine, as long as I get assigned to Lt. Echolls' squadron. ;-) Also, I don't pretend to hold any expertise in the Navy, the PI business or surfing. Especially surfing. I made all that stuff up cause I got lazy googling. I DO claim years of experience and expertise in ice cream and frozen yogurt.**

**Taking out the Trash**

"Take Our Daughters and Sons to Work Day? That's seriously a national holiday? I thought that was a ruse to skip class or something," Veronica complained as she took a swig of beer on the back patio of their house late one night.

The kids were in bed and the sun was rippling into gorgeous shades of amber across the ocean horizon. This was Veronica's favorite spot in the house. Really the only reason she agreed to purchase the house on the water.

When Logan insisted on buying prime 90909 beachside property due to its proximity to the best surfing, Veronica had pushed back.   
  
The realtor had sweet talked and cajoled, but Veronica had shook her head and rejected every single listing she had been shown. Bless Logan for his endless patience. She turned her nose up at the Italianate mansion. She scoffed at the contemporary beach house. The bigger, the flashier, the more Hollywood the mansion, the greater Veronica's scowl grew. 

Finally, at the end of a long day of house shopping, the realtor pulled up her car in front of a neat, dark grey, cape code style house. It was two stories and unlike the other listings they'd visited, didn't look anything like the home of a movie star. It was a beautiful family home and Veronica could tell Logan loved it. However, she remained unconvinced. She didn't give two shakes of a lamb's tail for the chef's kitchen, the beautiful French oak floors or the retractable glass doors for indoor-outdoor living. She could care less for the smart lighting or integrated music system. Not to mention, the number of zeroes on the price tag made her head swim. Her lips were pursed and her arms crossed the entire time they through the house, until they finally made their way to the back patio.

Cool wooden floorboards fanned out in front of them, revealing plush built in patio furniture and an outdoor kitchen. Beyond that, behind a natural rock wall, lay an enormous expanse of private beach and the Pacific Ocean; its waves lapping on the white sand invitingly. At that moment, so similar to tonight, with the sun setting and the ocean lulling, Veronica looked at Logan, finally let her arms drop beside her, and smiled. 

With Veronica traveling for cases and Logan's deployments, they made a point to spend as much time as possible playing with their children on that patio and on that beach. They also made a point to spend time alone, curled up together on that same patio, simply savoring one another's company.

"It's not a holiday," Logan continued, "According to the infallible source that is Wikipedia, it's a national program or whatever. But she's dying to do it, Veronica, she's not going to let up" said Logan.

 _Remind me to have a talk with Hunter about filtering information he shared with Emma and seriously limiting her internet access. How does she even figure out these things?! I just bought her Dr. Seuss and now she's on Wikipedia?_ Veronica shook her head, thinking she had made a grave error in judgment teaching her child to read as early as possible.  _Would it be bad parenting to dumb your child down?_

"Why can't she go with you to work? C'mon, visit the base. Get a mini uniform. Start a course on aerodynamics and jet propulsion. "

Logan counted on his fingers. 

"She's been to the base. She has several uniforms…and while we may think she's a genius, she's still just four."

"Uh…five!" Veronica interrupted, "in three weeks. Plus, it's never too young to instill patriotic duty and fervor." Veronica flashed Logan her winningest smile and sauciest salute.

Logan sighed and rolled his eyes, he conceded a weak "Hooyah" as they clinked bottles.

He added "Look, as much I'm sure the brass would appreciate a second generation, cute as a button, one girl Echolls PR campaign, wrapped in a tiny blonde bow…I have training sorties scheduled all week. She can sit in on briefs and stuff, but I can't ask the guys to watch my kid while I'm in the air for hours."

Before Veronica could get a word in, Logon continued, "Plus, do you really think she should be without parental supervision for extended periods of time? At a military facility?" Logan's eyebrows raised quizzically.

Veronica grimaced, pressing the heel of her hand to her forehead. Last time they had been on base was for a medal presentation for Logan's squadron. The medals had gone mysteriously missing at the last minute and Veronica had been unofficially elected on the spot to locate it. To both her extreme embarrassment and Logan's poorly suppressed amusement, Veronica's skills led her to find Emma behind the stage bestowing a service medal, with great pomp and circumstance, on Mr. Fluffernutter, a frothy white rabbit with a missing button eye.

"Look babe, as proud as I am that my offspring can be charged with theft of government property, even I will say it's probably best for her not to be court martialed until after she starts kindergarten."

Veronica fell back into the cushion defeated. Logan had a point. It's not that she didn't want to spend an entire day with her daughter. There was just some part of her that didn't quite want her little girl to watch Mommy work with Neptune's "finest" and wrestle with Neptune's smarmiest. Emma was young and sweet, full of golden hair streaked with sand, salt and sun. Veronica didn't want to sully that sunshine with the muck of the PI biz. Suddenly, she felt a pang of recognition as she remembered her Dad's reluctance to allow her to move back from New York.

Of course Emma had sat in the office before. She'd had a great time making paper clip necklaces, bringing Grandpa coffee, and playing computer games on Mac's numerous screens; but she hadn't actually followed Veronica out in the field. Veronica knew the child was relentless when she had her mind set on something. It had taken the G-Force simulator (set on barely moving) to convince her she couldn't fly jets with Daddy just yet, but Emma was certain she was perfectly qualified to take down bad guys with Mommy.

"Fine. I think all I have tomorrow is meeting Norris at the station to finalize some paperwork and collect on a bail jumper. Nothing too exciting and I suppose four is not too early for innocence to be lost."

"Great. Make sure you give her a tour of Cell B. It's an Echolls family tradition AND it has the best light."

"Of course. We wouldn't want her future to be anything less than… 'well lit.'"

Logan simply raised his bottle for Veronica to clink again.

OoOoOoO

"Mommy, are we gonna catch bad guys today?" chirped Emma. "I can totally catch bad guys. My sensei says I'm a natural!"

Veronica grinned. Logan had signed her up for karate lessons as a reflex panic reaction. Emma, in typical Emma fashion, had given her opinion of an older boy's surfing skills to less than amicable results. Self-defense classes flitted across Logan's mind as he dashed over the sand to rescue his baby girl. However, by the time he got to her side, a board had been cracked over the boy's head and three tiny red welts had been scratched across his face. The next day Logan rushed Emma to Sensei Satsuma's Okinawan Dojo internally freaking out that she had inherited some violent streak and needed martial self-control.

"The bad guy's already caught, sweetheart. We're just going to tie up the ends. That means we're going to watch him get taken away to prison where he belongs."

Emma looked disappointed, "Are we going to take him?" she added hopefully.

"No, the deputies will. We're going to see Deputy Clayton, you can call him Norris. He's Mommy's friend and he's going to put the bad guy away."

Veronica walked Emma into the station and along the familiar corridors. She'd walked these halls as a little girl, with Lianne to visit her dad when he was a deputy and later to bring him lunch when he was Sheriff. She remembered the time she spent here, older, jaded, reporting her own rape only to be laughed out by Don Lamb. She remembered charming and sleuthing her way into police records and official phone lines. She remembered visiting Logan in these cells. She remembered Logan visiting her.

She was soon busy signing the necessary paperwork to collect the reward on Rusty Bartlow, famed bean counter to moguls and models. That was, until he became infamous for screwing the models and embezzling the moguls. He'd been attempting to flee to Dominica before Veronica sniffed him out. She knew he was being transferred to federal prison today but wasn't actually expecting for him to cross her path no matter what she had insinuated to Emma.

Rusty whipped his head around as he saw Veronica and a scornful seething hatred filled his eyes. Just then Norris led Emma back into the front office.

"I don't know why I'm supposed to see Cell B. Daddy just said it was a…legacy? I don't know what that means…" chirped Emma happily as she skipped into view.

She started to walk over to her mother when she heard a sharp barking voice cut through the air.

"You bitch! Here to watch the show are you?" Rusty spat at Veronica, his loathing palpable in the air. "You know, Big D Casablancas warned me about you. Tight little ass but a  _huge_  pain in the rear. I shoulda listened to him. You get off on fucking rich men, baby? Literally and figuratively?"

"You know, what IS it with the name Casablancas and the cross-generational lechery?" Veronica shot back.

Rusty pushed his face closed to Veronica. "Wanna give me a farewell present, sweet cheeks? I think I could get over you screwing me….with you screwing me," he gave her a crooked slimy grin and cocked an eyebrow.

"Be sure not to lose that command of subtle double entendre in the slammer, Pops," said Veronica, popping her Ps. "I hear it's a real prison aphrodisiac. But as an added bonus, let me just heat things up for you." Veronica then unceremoniously dumped the contents of the cappuccino in her hands over Bartlow's head.

"SHIT! Holy crap…WHAT THE F- You'll pay for this, you evil little c-," sputtered Rusty as hot coffee surged over him. The deputies roughly shoved him away toward the waiting transport, chortling with pleasure.

"Mommy?" Emma piped up behind Veronica.

"Hey, sweetie. I'm sorry you had to see that." Her brow furrowed.

"Was that the bad guy?"

"Yeah, that was him and now he's going to be punished for it."

"Because he yelled at you and called you names and that was mean?"

"No, he stole a lot of money from a lot of people and then he tried to run away from his punishment. That's why he's going away to prison," explained Veronica

Emma pouted, unconvinced.

Norris stepped back in and informed Veronica, "He's packed up and on his way. As much as Lamb claims he's cleaning up the town, I'm glad to have you around to take the real trash out, Veronica."

"Thanks Norris, see ya around. Can you say bye to Norris, Em?"

Emma smiled and waved, "Bye Norris! Thanks for giving me my badge…" she pointed to the shiny star on her chest, "…and letting me hold your taser!"

Norris blanched. He stuttered as he rubbed the back of his head and avoided meeting Veronica's eyes. "S-S-She's hard to say no to, man," he managed, "Got those big blues stuck on you and tilting her head like that…She asked for the gun first, I talked her down! I did."

Veronica sighed. "It's okay, Norris. We're fully aware of her satanic powers. It's just so hard finding a good exorcist on yelp these days. Can't trust all the reviews."

She led Emma out of the station and towards the car.

Emma tugged on Veronica's leather jacket. "Mommy, did you pour the coffee on his head for punishment because called you names and yelled?"

Veronica sighed, "I guess so. But that wasn't nice of me. Listen, I caught him because he hurt other people, and that's the reason we punish bad guys. We don't punish bad guys because they made us mad, we do it to protect other people. Got it?"

 _There we go,_ thought Veronica,  _did that cover all the bases? Don't attack boys on the beach cause they called you a "stupid pipsqueak know it all," DO catch bad guys who rob citizens and prey upon insipid women._

"Is that what Deputy Norris means about 'taking out the trash," Mommy? Punish the bag guys who hurt other people?"

"Yeah," said Veronica absently, as she dug in her purse for the keys to Logan's BMW. "C'mon, that's our last stop for today, let's go get Grandpa and Mac and meet Daddy for an official "Emma's day as a PI" dinner?"

"Can Sammy come?"

Veronica chuckled, "Of course, we wouldn't leave him at home! Daddy's picking him up from daycare and meeting us at Mama Leone's."

At the mention of possible lasagna, Emma's eyes glazed over and she unconsciously licked her lips. Veronica laughed again, shuffling her gluttonous progeny into the convertible.

OoOoOoO

Two days later, Emma twirled eagerly towards Amy's Ice Cream Parlor, spinning in circles around people on the boardwalk and jumping on and off benches. She had spent a great day out on the waves with Daddy and Uncle Dick and her usual reward was a big bowl of frozen yogurt with any and all toppings she wanted. She didn't wipe out once today and was feeling several feet taller than her 3 feet and 4 inches. She had beamed and preened all day as her Daddy and Uncle Dick whooped and showered praises on her form and style. Her dad had taken out her on the waves when she was a tiny baby and Emma knew she was a talented surfer, especially for her age. She was super stoked to be competing for the first time in a few weeks when she turned 5 and finally qualified for the Kiddie Division. She had been having dreams of a shiny trophy for several days straight.

"Slow down, Emma. Be careful" gently chided a protective Logan, worried she'd trip and fall.

"Yeah, Grommet, it would totally suck if you fell and like broke something before the big competition, dude. How are you gonna smoke those other loser kids then? How's Big Uncle Dick gonna brag to all the fine ladies on the beach about his badass goddaughter?"

Emma giggled. She loved Uncle Dick. She wasn't quite sure why they said he was her "godfather." He wasn't anything like her Daddy, but she didn't care. She probably even liked Uncle Dick better than her Wallace and Mac, if only because she knew for a fact she could get away with naughtier stuff with him. Like when Dick let her eat a whole tub of Extreme Moose Tracks ice cream and made herself sick. Or when she pretended to be rescued by Uncle Dick in the ocean so that he could "pick up the ladies." Usually the more fun she had with Uncle Dick, the more upset her mom was, like that one time with the Party Pig.

Emma stopped in front of the ice cream parlor and turned to wait for her dad and godfather.

"Uncle Dick! Daddy! Hurry up!" She frowned in impatience. She had remembered to use "Uncle." Emma had always called Wallace and Mac by their names and she had called Dick by his name too. Until one day at preschool when they were making cards and Sister Evangeline had told her to make a card for someone she loved. Emma had made many things for her parents and thought it would be nice to make a card for Dick, who always had so much fun with her. She happily made a card for Dick covered in waves and surf boards. She walked up to the front of the room to present it but as soon as she opened her mouth and said, "I made a card for Dick, because I love Dick and he and I have fun together –" Sister Evangeline had grabbed her, dragged her off to her office and called her parents. Since then, her parents said she should call Dick, Uncle Dick because he was a grown up and her godfather and it was "respectful." Emma tried to ask why she didn't have to call Mac, Aunt Mac since she was her godmother, but her parents had bought her a sundae with three cherries and she promptly forgot what she was questioning to begin with.

The reindeer bells hung on the door and jingled as Emma pushed open the door. She had been coming to Amy's with Daddy since before she could remember. She knew everyone's order. Her Daddy always got a double decker chocolate cherry and pistachio waffle cone. Mommy got butter pecan in a bowl when she came. Uncle Dick didn't order the same thing, he liked to share with the lady he was talking to that day.

Amy's Ice Cream Parlor had an old timey feel with mint colored counters, striped awning and sundaes served in silver bowls. However, a few years ago, they had made an addition of a self-serve frozen yogurt bar to compete with the local Orange Leaf down the street making a killing on the bikini body conscious and little kids. Logan hated this new addition. Emma LOVED it. There was little that brought her more joy that to pull down on all the levers and swirl pastel ribbons of frozen yogurt into her mega sized bowl. The only thing to top it would be to then sprinkle everything she could on top.

Today, Emma made a beeline for the counter, ready to engage in her regular Amy's routine. Order a cone for Daddy before she made her way to the frozen yogurt bar. The young freckled cashier with carrot colored ringlets handed her the double decker waffle cone with a smile, complimenting Emma on how well she counted change. Then Emma spun on her heel to bring her cone to Daddy and slammed straight into somebody's bright gold, snakeskin, rhinestone studded Gucci purse.

Emma flew back, landing flat on her butt, the cone irretrievably smashed on the floor.

"Watch where you're going, you little snot! This purse is worth more than your life!" screeched a nasally female voice coming from a large mass of brassy blonde extensions.

Logan got up from the booth where he had been watching his daughter buy him an ice cream cone and made his way across the parlor to where Emma sat stunned on the floor. Dick turned from the busty brunette in the purple leopard bikini he was chatting up and looked to the familiar voice and commotion.

The blonde woman continued, "Well, get out of the way, little girl, you're holding up the line, don't just sit there like you're stupid or something."

The freckled cashier dashed around the counter with a wet dishcloth, and hurriedly mopped up the spilled ice cream cone while her coworker, a lanky black haired boy made another cone for Emma. The cashier timidly squeaked, "It's okay, ma'am. She's just a little girl, she didn't mean any harm."

"Yeah, it was an accident, no harm, no foul," added the black haired boy as other patrons murmured their agreement with a smattering of, "yeah, let off lady," "it's not big deal," "she's just a kid."

"Are you kidding me?!" cried the blonde, as she discovered a small streak of chocolate ice cream across the large gold G on her purse. "Where are your parents, you nasty little thing, they owe me a new purse!"

"Right here, Madison" growled Logan as he bent to pick Emma up off the floor and set her upright "Send me a bill for the purse and leave my kid alone." He patted Emma down, making sure she was okay.

"She's yours?" asked Madison, stunned. Logan ignored her, focused on soothing his daughter, stroking her hair and whispering gently at the shell shocked child.

Emma had never had anyone scream at her like that. She'd heard Mommy yell at Uncle Dick about the Party Pig incident but she wasn't yelling at Emma. Even when her parents were mad at her, they sat her down and talked to her sternly, never raising their voices or calling her names. She wasn't quite sure how to react to this mean, mean, mean, MEAN lady!

The lanky boy stooped and handed Emma a new cone, "here ya go, sweetie. See? All better."

Madison wasn't done, though. She demurred at the discovery that Emma was Logan's daughter and started to purr.

"God Logan, I never saw you as the kid type. Guess the military changes a man. It's kinda sexy."

Logan rolled his eyes.

Dick stepped around Logan and sneered, "Get lost Madison, the Grommet here has a mom, ya know and if I were you, I'd be worried about pissing Mama Bear off by threatening her cub and hitting on her…grizzly. You'll be left eating like porridge or whatever…"

"What?" asked Madison, confused.

"Dick, what did we say about the allegories?" sighed Logan.

Dick automatically replied, "Keep to your strengths." He shook his head and continued.

"Whatever dude. Look, Madison, her mom? Yeah, Veronica freakin' Mars. So back off if you know what's good for you."

Madison's eyes narrowed into slits. "I should have known. Guess that bitch finally sunk her claws into you didn't she, Logan? What? Did she poke a hole in the condom?"

At hearing her mother called a "bitch," (which she was certain was a bad word) for the second time today, Emma was jolted out of her deer in headlights trance and saw red.

"Don't call my Mommy that! You're an awful mean lady," Emma spat out.

Madison bent over and leered at Emma, face to face, "Your Mom is nothing more than a white trash, unpopular, massive slut." She spun on her strappy gold heels and turned back to Shelley Pomroy whom she'd come with.

Before Logan or Dick could say anything, Emma, not really understanding anything Madison had said, lashed back with the best comeback she had learned from the older kids at the beach and screamed, "AT LEAST HER ASS ISN'T AS BIG AS YOURS!"

Logan clamped a hand over Emma's mouth.

Dick had never seen Madison spin around so fast or appear so red under her spray tan. She lunged toward Emma with the intent to slap her.

Logan shot an arm out and stopped Madison's hand mid-air as Dick grabbed Emma and the cone she was holding whipping her out of striking distance.

Dick had also never seen Logan so furious. At least, not since he joined the Navy. Logan had mellowed in Dick's eyes. He was controlled, even buttoned up, like he wore that stiff white uniform invisibly at all times. The only time he saw Logan act like Logan was either at home with Veronica or in the ocean with Emma and Dick.

The sinews and tendons in Logan's arm were clear and visible as he clenched Madison's wrist. She squirmed trying to get out of his grasp.

"Logan! That hurts, let go of me."

"Madison, I'm going to say this once. If you touch one hair on either of my kids' heads, and yeah, I have two…I swear on all things holy I  _WILL_ ," Madison flinched, "tell their mother. Then, like Dick says, heaven help you, cause you know Veronica will get you back." He dropped her hand and turned away, leaving Madison somewhat green and rubbing her wrist.

Emma on the other hand, did NOT feel vindicated. While her Daddy and Uncle Dick tried to cheer her and let her pull every single lever on the frozen yogurt machines, she wasn't feeling right. That mean lady, Madison had to pay. She had said bad words and called Emma's Mommy bad names and she wasn't having it. She had to pay. Bad guys were punished. That's just how it worked. Someone always had to pay. Daddy took out bad guys in his jets and Mommy took out bad guys at the Sheriff's station –

Suddenly, Emma's eyebrows shot up as a lightbulb turned on in her head. She knew what would make her feel better. She turned and smiled sweetly at Logan. "Daddy, I have enough yogurt, can I get lots of toppings?"

"Sure, baby, anything you want," shrugged Logan indulgently. He figured, hey, the kid had a rough experience, might as well.

Emma, with a renewed gleam in her eye, went forth, precariously balancing a giant bowl of frozen yogurt and proceeded to add nuts, tapioca pearls, fruits, sprinkles, health bars, brownie bites, cheeries, cookie crumbs, coconut filings all topped with copious amounts of chocolate syrup, caramel syrup, marshmallow fluff and hot fudge.

Dick looked queasy. "Logan, dude, why do you let her do that. You just spent like $25 bucks on ice cream that can't possibly taste good and she's gonna eat like three bites. It's just gross man. Gotta teach the Grommet some restraint."

"Yes, well I thought I'd let you teach those life lessons as restraint is your forte." Logan replied. "Besides, she just had a traumatic experience with Madison Sinclair, she needs to refuel in the age old methods time tested by Mars women before her."

"Still gross, man."

"My kid, my rules, dude."

Emma came back and sat down to eat her monstrosity. Dick wasn't entirely wrong. Emma ate about ten bites before she stopped. She proceeded to stir her goopy mess of frozen yogurt over and over until Dick put his hand over hers and pleaded, "Please, kid, you're gonna bring my lunch right back up and I haven't even had anything to drink yet."

Emma looked down at her masterpiece and deemed it stirred to completion. She nodded. Logan then asked Dick to watch Emma for a minute while he ran out to feed the meter. The run in with Madison had extended their stay longer than originally planned.

Perfect.

"Uncle Dick, can you do me a favor?"

"If you do me a favor and dump that bowl of - stuff"

"I'm gonna! But I want you to film me on your iPhone so Mommy knows I can do it by myself" Emma grinned her brightest smile.

"Let me get this straight. You want me to film you, dumping your ice cream? Why do you get a gold star or something?"

"Pweaze?" begged Emma, eyes big and pleading.

"Okay, okay! Don't you dare tilt that head." Dick held up his hands in defeat. He pulled out his iPhone and flipped on the camera, switching to video.

"Great! Now, don't stop until I'm done, ok?" admonished Emma.

"Go, go. I'm filming, won't miss a second of your Great Dump. Geez, guess the Hollywood bug skipped a generation. Vain much?"

Emma leaned into the camera, "Hi Mommy, this is Emma. Uncle Dick is going to film me while I show  _you_  how  _I_ ," Emma pointed at herself, "take out the trash!" With that, she grabbed her extra-large bowl of chocolately, gloopy, sticky melted frozen yogurt and assortment of toppings; and balancing it in two hands, slid out the booth and headed confidently towards the trashcan.

Dick held the phone at their booth and panned left as she headed to a trashcan near the front door. Suddenly, as she approached the trashcan, Emma made a sharp turn right and climbed into a booth by the front window.

Dick frowned. What was she doing? Did she need the extra height to dump the bowl? No, she wasn't on the right side of the booth. What?

Logan walked back into the ice cream parlor, reindeer bells jingling, just in time to see Emma Echolls, aged 4, vigilante in tiny pink flip flops, stand on the seat of the booth and cautiously turn around holding a full bowl of melted frozen yogurt.

Shelley Pomroy's eyes widened in horror as Emma carefully tipped the full contents of her bowl right over the head of Madison Sinclair.

OoOoOoO

"Hey, honey. How was the water today? You hang ten? Shred some waves?" Veronica greeted her firstborn, Sam on her hip as she sprinkled extra cheese on the lasagna. "What? Did I get it wrong, dudette?" she teased.

"I'm hungry," stated Emma simply.

Veronica frowned, "I thought Daddy was taking you to get ice cream after surfing? You hungry already? The lasagna needs to bake a while."

Emma shrugged, "I gave my ice cream away."

At this point, Logan walked in after putting the surf boards away, followed by Dick. He dropped a kiss on Veronica's lips and another on Sam's head before turning to his daughter.

"Room, young lady. I'll talk to Mom and we'll call you down for dinner. I better not hear that Xbox turn on."

Emma wordlessly marched to the stairs. At bottom of the stairs she whirred around and said, "She was a very mean bad lady, Mommy, and she deserved it!" before she quickly disappeared up the stairs.

Logan and Veronica looked at each other for a beat before Veronica set the baby down in his high chair, threw the lasagna into the oven and crossed her arms over her chest.

"She  _gave_  her ice cream away? Who is that kid and what have you done with my daughter? Has The Silence stolen our child and given us a ganger? Wait, is the other one ours at all?" she narrowed her eyes, feigned alarm and stared at Sam. Sam replied with a gurgled string of gibberish.

Logan sat down at the breakfast bar and put his head in his hands. Now Veronica was concerned. She came around the breakfast bar and put a hand on Logan's shoulder.

"What's wrong? She seems fine."

"You better just watch, Rons," interjected Dick. Veronica turned around startled, having forgotten Dick was still there.

"Don't you have a home to go to, Dick?"

"I consider myself an honorary child of yours and Logan's. Like a Malawi baby. Or a Jolie-Pitt."

"We're not adopting you, Dick. You're legally considered grown, even if the psychological verdict is still out."

Logan lifted his head, their banter uplifting his spirits.

"C'mon 'Ronica, I mean, if he's tax deductible and up to date on his shots…"

"No. Now what do you mean, 'watch,' what did she do? God, did she run into Enbom's kid on the beach again?"

Dick pulled out his cell phone and queued the video. He pressed play and Veronica saw the cherubic face of her tiny blonde surfer girl pop on the screen, all smiles, saying, "Hi Mommy, this is Emma…"

By the end of the short clip, Veronica stood, mouth agape and Logan had his head back in his hands.

"It's inescapable. The Echolls family curse. She's four and she's attacking people," mumbled a despondent Logan.

"I mean, I know it's not like right and all, but that bit when she dumps that shit and Madison screams, is kinda priceless. Gonna be the best vine video ever. Viral!" boasted Dick. "Look, I even have a cool function where you can take a picture of a specific moment in your video. My personal favorite? The moment of impact. Look, here."

Dick sent the snapshot to Logan and Veronica's phone along with the video. The photo was a thing of beauty. Emma's arms were stretched as far up as possible as she tipped the bowl over. You could see the gloopy brown mess splash onto Madison's head as her hands raised up in shock. The look on Madison's face truly  _was_  priceless.

Veronica had to put Logan out of his misery. "Logan, trust me, it's not your fault. At least, it's not a genetic problem. or maybe it is. but Nurture won out over Nature today. I mean…ugh... I'm not explaining this right."

Logan looked up, slightly relieved and curious. "What do you mean?"

"Well, remember, 'Take Our Daughters and Sons to Work Day'?" Veronica started as she launched into a description of the run in with Rusty Bartlow.

Dick burst out laughing. "Ugh, Bartlow is such a douche, man. Wish I'd been there to film  _that_."

Logan couldn't help but smile as well. He added, "You know what kind of kills me? It's that even though I'm totally stressed that my daughter could have a hereditary violent streak, I'm so damn  _ **proud**_  of her for dousing Madison with frozen yogurt, I don't have the heart to actually punish her."

"Don't worry about it," said Veronica, "This is my mess. I gave the whole speech about protecting others and she was trying to defend my honor. I'll talk to her and lay down the law. What do you say to a week dry? No surfing, no pool, nada? And no games."

"Sounds fair." Logan sighed. "Not yet five and she's got a rapidly piling rap sheet. Larceny? Check. Assault? Check. Colleges are gonna love it."

The oven gave off a musical, 'ding' just as a rooster timer went off with a shrill, "COCK A DOODLE DOO!" Veronica claimed the fancy appliances didn't have loud enough timers and had made sure to buy an overly obnoxious backup.

"Well, before we throw our daughter in maximum security, call her down for dinner, please? We don't have to tell her we're proud, but the least we can do is feed her lasagna. I'd say she's deserved that."

As Logan headed to the stairs to fetch his errant child and Dick settled down to steal cheerios off of Sam's high chair, Veronica took the lasagna out of the oven and pulled out her own cell phone. She forwarded the video to Wallace and Mac. She then secretly pulled up that picture of Emma and Madison and surreptitiously pressed, "Set as Wallpaper."

**A/N: This has been one of my favorite "snapshots" to work on. I'm definitely one of those Marshmallows who felt like a simple punch at the reunion was not good enough for Madison. Hope you enjoyed it. If any of you are wondering what I based Logan and Veronica's house on, you can see it below:**

http://marshakotlyar.com/wp-content/uploads/2013/11/5368-Rincon-Beach-Flyer6.pdf

**I also have a young actress in mind that I think helps visualize my concept of Emma, but maybe I'll save that for another day. Reviews welcome!**


	3. To Veronica, Going to the Warres

**A/N: Sorry for the huge delay, I was swamped with dissertation stuff and then had a family emergency that took me out of commission for a while.  Glad to be back, writing helps take one’s mind off of things.  This chapter is much more cerebral and not as humorous like my last two drabbles.  Hope you like it nonetheless.  Also, happens to be one story that may have more than one significant “money shot” in it.**

**Disclaimer: As always, everything canon belongs to Rob Thomas, everything else to me.  The poetry cited belong to Richard Lovelace.  Again, Google says I’m allowed one F bomb somewhere.**

**OoOoOoOoO**

**_To Veronica, Going to the Warres_ **

 

“Mail, Lieutenant,” shouted Hughes, as he chucked a small, cardboard envelope at Logan. 

Logan had just gotten back from a training sortie and was exhausted.  The mission hadn’t been complicated and he knew he was great at his job, but he’d never felt so heavy flying before.

His first cruise, he was all nervous and excited energy, the next one, he felt confident and composed.  The last two, he’d been so pleased to have Veronica back in his life, that while it had been hard to be separated; being able to talk about her to his squadron and add their picture to the calendar in the Ready Room made him feel like a giddy schoolgirl.  Now Logan felt like he had the carrier’s anchor strapped to his chest.  He dragged it with him as he walked to briefings, as he prepped his plane, even when he was flying. 

Veronica had been radio silent for the past three weeks since he’d left and Logan was about to implode.  Skyping had been impossible as the internet connection was just not cooperating and he’d only been able to get three emails out.  They’d been short, sweet, inquiring into her health and informing her of his daily doings. He didn’t dare bring up anything else.

There were no replies. 

Logan constantly wondered if Veronica used the key, found the box, maybe, _maybe,_ come to understand why he had to leave.  _She had to, there’s no way she wouldn’t investigate into that key_ , Logan smiled despite himself, _that’s my girl, can’t say no to any mystery, big or small_. 

Now he stared at the small, stiff brown envelope in dread, anxiety starting to accumulate.  Panicked thoughts raced through his mind as he saw it was addressed from Veronica.  _Of course it’s from her, idiot, who else could it be from, Trina?_ Logan admonished himself.  _Trina, who did a whole Tinseltown Diaries: Air Force special before realizing I was in the Navy?_ Logan scoffed at the memory before turning back toward the task at hand.

Veronica rarely sent actual mail, it wasn’t worth it most of the time, taking at least two weeks to reach him.  _What could getting a physical envelope from her mean?  Oh god, was it a Dear Logan letter?  Did she want to end things?_ Logan could feel his blood pressure skyrocketing.  _What is this, a Nicholas Sparks movie? Did something happen to her? To…?_

Suddenly, his blood ran cold.  _Dear god, did she decide to –_ his knees shook and he sat down hard in his seat – _she couldn’t have…wanted to…to… not Veronica…Veronica wouldn’t.  Would she? It was her choice after all.  But, while he was gone? Did he have no say in the matter?_ Logan raked long fingers through his closely cropped hair in despair. He hadn’t known he could feel such a profound sense of loss over something he wasn’t sure he ever truly had.  Now, he felt sick.  Quickly and lithely, he jolted up and sped out of the office toward his own bed.  It was an old reflex, learned from years with Aaron.  Get to the privacy of your own room before you fall to pieces, before you cry, before you let yourself truly feel the pain. 

Blood pounded in his ears as Logan slipped quietly into his rack and drew the blue curtains around him, turning on the light. His hands shook as he tore off the top of the envelope and drew out a smaller white envelope.  On the front of the white envelope, in Veronica’s unmistakable handwriting were the words,

_“To Logan, from Prison”_

Logan was certain that his heart actually skipped a beat. 

 

OoOoOoOoO

**_3 weeks and 2 days ago._ **

 

“Get the Hell out! We don’t need you! Go ahead! Fucking leave!” screamed Veronica as she stormed into their bedroom and violently slammed the door behind her. 

Logan stood in their kitchen, flinching as the doorframe rattled.  He sucked in a deep breath and slowly rose to his feet.  This couldn’t end like this, he wouldn’t let it.  His future depended on it.

He turned the knob on the door and found it unsurprisingly, locked.  Then, resting his forehead against the door, he softly knocked, “Veronica?” he pleaded, desperation leaking out through his lips, “Please? Open the door? We need to talk about this. I’m going to wait out here until you want to talk.”

Logan ended up spending the entire night sitting outside the door.  _God I could use a drink,_ he thought as he rubbed his temples sometime after 3am.  _Yeah right, then Veronica won’t think you’re an evil asshole who’s abandoning her, she’ll think you’re an evil alcoholic asshole who’s abandoning her,_ chided the angel on his shoulder. 

The black cat clock with the stupid swinging tail clicked the seconds away as Logan sat with his back against the door listening to faint sobs die away as Veronica fell asleep. 

 

**_3 weeks and 1 day ago._ **

 

Slivers of sunlight woke Logan up just as the door opened behind him, landing him on his flat on his back, prostrate at Veronica’s feet.  Tweety Bird slippers gingerly stepped over him towards the kitchen counter.  She popped a K-cup in the Keurig and turned toward the refrigerator.

_Excellent,_ Logan observed hopefully, _food will put her in a better mood._ He dragged himself up towards her.  Veronica dug around the refrigerator and pulled out the carton of milk, refusing to turn to face him.

The Keurig chimed a high “ding ding” as the coffee finished brewing.  “Uh…are you sure you should be drinking coffee?” Logan said hesitantly, “Isn’t that like…bad for –”

“It’s not for me,” Veronica replied curtly as she turned around and slid the coffee mug over to him and leaned against the counter with her glass of milk.  She popped two vitamin tablets into her mouth and took a swig of her milk. 

“I still don’t know why we don’t have an espresso machine and insist on drinking mystery cup coffee,” Logan remarked ruefully, but Veronica wasn’t about to take the bait and banter about Logan’s first world problems. 

“So I was thinking, when exactly _were_ you planning on telling me this?”

Logan looked confused, “About my distaste for plebian coffee? I thought you knew me better.”

Veronica’s patience with his deflection was quickly dissipating and her eyes narrowed.

Logan caved, “You’ve known for months about this deployment.” 

Veroniica’s eyes narrowed, “That’s _not_ what I was talking about.  I was referring to when you’d just up and decided to make a life changing decision for you, me and our **_child,_** without consulting either of us.” 

“Well, I was thinking I’d skip the consult with the baby since…you know… it’s like the size of a pea or whatever and has somewhat compromised linguistic ability.” 

Veronica was not amused.  She continued with escalating wrathfulness, “You know what’s worse, Logan? What makes you truly selfish? It’s that you went and sold your soul to the Navy for 8 more years **_AFTER_** I told you about the baby.  Yeah, we didn’t plan it and it just happened, but I told you right away! You _knew_ we were having a baby!  You _knew_ that we would need you here!  You _knew_ all of that and still you chose the Navy over us.  It’s more important to you to be with your buddies and fly fancy airplanes than to actually be **_here_** , being a Dad to your kid!”  Veronica was practically panting in her fury. 

“It’s not just about flying and the guys, Veronica!  This is how I’m choosing to _be_ a Dad.  I’m sorry the timing is so goddamn awful, but they needed a decision and I made it.  I chose this life for me, that’s true, but I chose to recommit for you and the baby –”

Veronica cut him off and choked out, “for _US?!_ How could you possibly say that? Are you delusional?  You don’t need a job, you have millions of dollars.  Tens of millions.  The only good thing about those millions is you being able to NOT work! NOT leave! We need you here.  I need you here.  To be at doctor’s appointments and ultrasounds and Lamaze classes.  To see your first child be born!”

“I’ll be back in time for the baby’s birth.” Logan added somewhat sheepishly.

Veronica had reached her peak of desperation, “Don’t you get it?! _YOU MIGHT NEVER COME BACK!”_

The elephant had finally entered the room and plopped all of its weight on Logan’s chest.  A defiant tear escaped and rolled down Veronica’s cheek as Logan cradled his head in his hands. 

“Don’t you think I know that Veronica?  With the air strikes and ISIS and …” Logan caught himself before he relayed too much.  “I know the risks.  I make extra sure to take all the precautions I can to come home to you. To you both! But this is my job, it’s what I have to do, I don’t know how to explain it to you, but it’s just what I _have_ to do.  For you, for the baby. It’s a matter of honor.”

“Honor?” scoffed Veronica, “Are you in the Navy or Medieval Times? Wait, you are not seriously going to give me the ‘freedom ain’t free’ speech are you?  Have we started voting Republican?  We’re Southern Californians!” Veronica shot back with venom. 

Logan wasn’t sure if he could feel more defeated.  His usually quick tongue felt tied in knots. 

“I’m going to my Dad’s,” Veronica spoke into the silence.

Logan looked up somewhat panicked.  _Please don’t run, Veronica.  Please don’t run away from me._

Veronica noticed the wild look in his eyes and demurred.  She held up her hands, “I just need some time alone. I’ll see you later tonight and I’ll drive you to the base tomorrow to see you off.”

As she turned toward the front door, she added, “Perhaps we shouldn’t be having this baby at all, if we’re just planning to leave it abandoned at best and orphaned at worst.” 

Logan could only watch as Veronica grabbed her keys and walked out the door. 

 ~~~

Later that night, as Veronica pulled up to the condo they shared, she saw a light on in the second bedroom they had designated as an office.  Logan rarely spent much time in this room as they mostly used it for storage and Logan preferred being in the den where he and Dick would spend hours playing _Call of Duty 5_. 

Veronica’s brows knitted together in confusion.  She felt the urge to investigate what Logan could be doing in the office but didn’t want to start another fight.  She had spent the majority of the day swinging/sleeping in her father’s hammock.  All the screaming at Logan and being pregnant left her utterly exhausted and she had been dozing constantly.  Keith had left Veronica to herself all day; whether it was to not meddle in the young couple’s affairs or just not wanting to trigger Veronica’s somewhat unpredictable mood state, she wasn’t sure. 

She did know that she didn’t really want to come home.  She wanted to run.  That was her _modus operandi_.  Logan used to say that she had no flight in her, but all fight.  _That’s so not true,_ Veronica admitted to herself.  _Injustice? Corruption? Murder? You’re damn sure I’ll fight, but love, family, relationships?  I’m a runner.  In some ways, no better than Lianne.  I’ve been running for years and my favorite person to run from was Logan._ She knew why.  _Logan was never the safe choice.  He was moody, complex, biting yet sweet, hostile yet nurturing.  He was a puzzle I was afraid I couldn’t solve and that was terrifying. Yes, I was afraid.  Afraid my love for him would lock me into something I couldn’t fully comprehend or control.  So, I ran.  I ran to Duncan, ran to Piz, ran to Stanford, ran to Columbia, ran back to Piz…until I ran right back into Logan.  So, what are you running from now, Veronica?_

Veronica slinked as quietly as she could through the living room and past the kitchen toward the office.  She just wanted a peek, she couldn’t help herself.  What was Logan up to?  She tiptoed toward the cracked open door and looked inside. 

Logan was hunched over what looked like a wooden box, taking pieces of paper, envelopes and pictures out, looking them over, putting them back in; taking another piece out, putting it back in.  Finally, he gentled rubbed a piece of fabric between his fingers before reverently laying it in the box and closing the lid.  He took a small gold key and locked the box before getting up and turning towards the closet. 

Veronica quickly slipped away as Logan turned so as not to be caught.  She softly padded back to the bedroom, got into her pajamas and slid into bed.  She pretended to be asleep as she felt Logan slide in next to her, but allowed him to wrap his arms and body around her, each of them taking comfort in the normalcy of this sleeping habit before their separation the next morning. 

 

**_3 weeks and 0 days ago…_ **

****

Veronica woke up with a start.  Damn pregnancy brain, she must have slept through her alarm.  She felt that something was wrong and quickly realized that Logan was not asleep in the bed next to her.  They had agreed that Veronica would drive him to the base and bid him goodbye before he deployed, but she knew immediately upon waking that Logan had left already.  She looked down and on his pillow was a note.  As she picked up the note Logan’s large loopy writing stared up at her. 

 

_Veronica,_

_I didn’t want to wake you, you looked so peaceful and I know you need the rest.  Breakfast is on its way._

_I know this cruise is going to be hard, but know that I love you, I love our baby and I’ll come back to you both._

_Always._

_Logan_

 

Veronica sighed.  She hadn’t meant for them to part this way.  Yes, she was angry; if she was honest, she’d admit she was scared to.  Terrified even. Terrified of having a baby.  Terrified of being without Logan. Terrified of having a baby without Logan. 

She was shaken out of her thoughts by her phone buzzing.  She saw it was her Dad and picked it up.  

“I’m outside your door, honey, and I’ve brought breeeaaakfaaaast,” Keith sang and Veronica could envision him swinging the bag from the Studio Diner they loved to frequent. As she opened the door, she could smell the scent of greasy, delicious grilled cheese waft into her home. 

“Hand it over, Pops and no one gets hurt,” Veronica tried her best to look dangerous. 

Keith generously handed the bag to her as they settled into the breakfast bar in the kitchen.  Veronica pulled out two grilled cheese sandwiches and a Styrofoam cup of tomato bisque for dipping; arranging them neatly in front of herself. 

“Sweetie, I know we tried this before in kindergarten, but maybe a refresher would help.  Repeat after me, ‘Sharing is caring,”

“Dad! I’m eating for two, therefore two sandwiches? It’s like –math.” Veronica took a large bite of one grilled cheese and promptly licked a line down the front of the second. 

“Motherhood has matured you, I see.”  Keith smiled indulgently at his only child. 

His smile faltered slightly as he sat down.  “Logan came to see me this morning.”

Veronica tried to hide her surprise with bitterness.

“That’s great.  I’m so glad he bade you farewell as he flies behind hostile terrorist lines, leaving his pregnant girlfriend at home, asleep and unaware.” 

“I think he was trying to spare you a difficult goodbye, honey.” 

Veronica didn’t reply, busying herself with her grilled cheeses. 

Keith thought back to earlier this morning when Logan had showed up at his door in his service uniform, cab waiting outside the door of his bungalow. 

“Sir? Can I have a minute?” 

Keith let him in, rubbing the sleep out of his eyes, grinning inwardly that Logan had finally transitioned from “dude” to “sir.”  _God Bless the US Navy._

Logan sat on the couch and took his cap off.  “I don’t have much time, Mr. Mars, but I wanted to leave something for Veronica with you.  I want to make sure she gets it, and well, when I leave things for Veronica sometimes…she doesn’t get it.  There’s a long story about a voicemail, but for the sake of my bodily welfare, I’ll refrain.” 

Logan took a deep breath before launching into his explanation of what he was asking Keith to do.  Keith listened without saying a word, simply nodding here and there.

“Can you understand?  I don’t want to leave her, I really don’t.  I mean, we’d _just_ found out about the baby and we weren’t expecting it, I mean, it was an accident, I mean, we couldn’t be happier….but you see, I have to –”

Logan was nervous, and his old habit of gesticulating when he was emotional emerged through all the naval training.  Hands started to flail as he attempted to speak.

Keith reached out and held Logan’s hands down firmly.  “Son,” the word sounded so foreign on Keith’s lips, but yet, so right.  “You don’t have to explain.  I’m a Dad too.” 

Logan let go of the breath he didn’t realize he’d been holding and smiled weakly.  _That’s right, they were both fathers.  Logan was something – someone’s father._ No other explanation was necessary.  He put his cap back on and simply nodded, “Sir” in response.  Logan moved to leave but paused after a step, turned to Keith and somewhat bashfully asked, “Oh, and could you bring some breakfast over to Veronica?  I think it’ll soften the blow when she wakes up and I’m gone.”

Keith nodded, smiling.

Logan then walked to the door and out toward the cab. 

In a burst of impulsivity, Keith called out from the doorway, “Logan?”  Logan spun back around.  “I’m proud of you, kid.”  Logan beamed in a way Keith had never seen the boy smile before.  Then his smile gave way to a smirk and his eyebrows twitched as he gave Keith a quick salute and a wink.

“Thanks, dude.” 

Keith rolled his eyes. 

~~~~~

Now, as he brought himself back to the present and watched his daughter scarf down incomprehensible amounts of grilled cheese, Keith pulled out the small white envelope Logan had entrusted with him and placed it in front of Veronica. 

“He wanted you to have this, wanted to make sure you’d get it.”

Veronica paused in her eating.  “And he needed _you_ as a delivery boy?”

“Said something about things not getting to you ….something about voicemails…” he trailed off, not sure he wanted to hear the story Logan thought would result in Keith doing him bodily injury.

 Veronica nodded.  After they’d reunited and Veronica moved back to Neptune, Logan had randomly asked one night about that heartfelt voicemail he left her in college and she had to grudgingly admit she’d deleted it before she heard the whole thing.  She was glad he took precautions this time.  Who knows, if he’d left her an envelope on the counter, she might have thrown it out in her anger.

_But to have Dad bring it by? Logan was serious._ Veronica mused. 

“I have to head to the office,” Keith said as he stood up to leave.  “Give me fifteen?” said Veronica, as she started to get up.  Keith held a hand up, “You take the day to yourself.  Open the envelope.  See what’s inside.  I know I haven’t been his biggest fan, but I’ve gotten to know the man the boy has become and I have to admit he’s a good one.”  Keith paused, as if it pained him a little to go on, “He wants to be a good father, Veronica. Give him a chance.” 

_He knocks up your only daughter and you’re advocating for him, Dad?_ Veronica could hear the theme song to the _Twilight Zone_ playing in her head.  _Do-do-do-do, do-do-do-do._ What the hell. 

Veronica stood, mouth agape as her father pushed the envelope into her hands, planted a kiss on her forehead and left. 

In somewhat of a trance, she brushed the crumbs of the grilled cheese into the empty Styrofoam cup and dumped them in the trashcan.  She then sat down, zombie like, in her favorite armchair by the living room window and looked at Logan’s envelope.  On the front was written:

 

_To Veronica, Going to the Warres_

 

Veronica’s head cocked in confusion.  What does that even mean?  She felt outside the envelope and noticed it didn’t seem to hold any paper items, but something rather odd shaped and solid inside.  She flipped open the envelope and dumped the contents into her palm.  

Out fell a single, golden key.

OoOoOoOoO

Veronica rolled the key over and over again between her fingers.  She instantly knew what the key opened.  That wooden box she’d seen Logan going through the previous night.  _Did Logan know I’d seen him looking in that box?  Or did he just assume I’d go “Veronica Mars-ing” and find it?_

Veronica wasted no time.  She clutched the small golden key tightly in her fist as she flew off the blue and white armchair and threw herself toward the small office room.  One Tweety Bird slipper lay by the armchair and another was lost between the kitchen and the hallway. 

Her socked feet slid to a stop in front of the small walk-in-closet in their office.  She slowly opened the door, as if she was afraid all the contents would come spilling out and crush her.  Up on the top shelf of the build-ins was a mahogany box with a small gold lock.  Veronica pulled it off the shelf and looked down at it.  It looked old, but kept in good condition.  The box was plain, with no decoration on it aside from small initials carved into the bottom right corner reading, “L+V.”  _Did Logan carve that?_ Thought Veronica, perplexed.  _I knew he was a hopeless romantic, but really?_ She set the box on the table, drew the drapes and sat down at the lone desk in the office.  She wanted to sit as Logan had been sitting.  To see what he saw. 

Veronica put the little key into the little lock and turned.  The tumblers clicked smoothly and the lock easily opened.  She lifted the lid and looked for the first time at the contents which Logan had so lovingly perused last night.  On top was a soft piece of leather with golden wings emblazoned upon them, faded with time and reverent fingers caressing the name, also embossed in gold, “LTJG V.J. LESTER, USN.”  Veronica was sure she had never seen the name before, but somehow it seemed familiar. 

Like a lightning bolt, Veronica remembered.  Logan had mentioned his maternal grandfather several times when they had dated in the past.  She closed her eyes and tried to flip through her mental annals.  _He had been in the Korean War.  He had been taken prisoner.  Logan had cherished things of his, a pen? A lighter? A watch!_ Veronica recalled retrieving a pocketwatch back from a fake Charlie Stone all those years ago.  She knew Logan had thought highly of his grandfather, despite not knowing much about him.  Apparently, his grandfather had been in the Navy too?  _Is this why Logan had joined?_  Veronica wondered.  He had briefly told Veronica about that day surfing out on the water when he made the decision to pursue a naval career, promising to tell the story in more detail later; but he hadn’t mentioned a grandfather. 

Veronica looked back down in the box and saw envelopes, obviously aged, their paper yellowing.  She picked one up and then another, soon realizing they were letters sent from Lt. V. Lester to a one, Miss. Lynette Miravelle and vice versa.  _Logan’s mom must have been named for her own mother._ Veronica hesitated, looking at the letters the lieutenant and Lynette had written each other, pondering if it would be an intrusion of privacy to read them.  Just then, she saw photographs peek out from beneath the pile of envelopes.  She grasped them and pulled them out carefully.  There was an official looking picture of Lt.jg Victor J. Lester in his Navy dress blues and white cap, a picture of the couple outside on the porch of a house, hydrangeas in full bloom behind them, a wrinkled and faded picture of a beautiful young woman with “Love, Lynette” written in floral script.  Lt. Lester must have carried it with him in Korea for it to be so worn.  Veronica could see the fine, arched eye brows of Lynn Echolls in Lynette’s face as well as her deep dark eyes framed with thick sooty lashes.  Not to mention the cheekbones. 

Veronica glanced downward for a moment.  _Baby, if you’re going to inherit anything, get those cheekbones.  The Mars nose is definitely cute but we got little to give on cheekbones._ The final photo gave Veronica pause.  It was black and white and made of the same firm cardstock the other photos were printed on, but this was the only photo that looked candid, not posed.  It was Victor Lester, sitting in an F4U Corsair, as was scribbled on the bottom of the photo, wearing helmet, goggles, flight suit and looking every bit the naval aviator. 

_Logan’s grandfather was a pilot!?_ Veronica stared in disbelief.  As much as she could see elements of Lynn in Lynette’s photo she could see features of Logan in Victor’s.  His deep set eyes were pale but reminded her of Logan’s kind brown ones.  His jaw was square and firm just like Logan’s when he was determined about something.  Veronica couldn’t help but smile at how handsome both of them looked in their uniforms.  _God, why am I such a sucker for the uniform?_ Victor wasn’t looking at the camera as in his Navy portrait and his photo with Lynette.  He was looking off into the distance, the slightest warm but sad smile on his face, as if he was loathe to leave but resigned to do so.  Veronica found herself easily picturing Logan wearing that expression, sitting in his F/A-18 Super Hornet, sad to leave her and their new baby, but determined to do “the honorable thing.” 

Veronica flipped the photograph over, looking for the date of the picture and found the back covered in a firm, bold print, a man’s writing.  Victor’s.  Veronica read:

 

_To Lucasta, Going to the Warres_

_Tell me not, sweet, I am unkind,_

_That from the nunnery_

_Of thy chaste breast and quiet mind_

_To war and arms I fly._

_True, a new mistress now I chase,_

_The first foe in the field;_

_And with a stronger faith embrace,_

_A sword, a horse, a shield._

_Yet this inconstancy is such_

_As thou shalt adore;_

_I could not love thee, dear, so much,_

_Loved I not honor more._

_~ Robert Lovelace_

 

The photo fell from Veronica’s numb fingertips and floated back into its mahogany resting place.  Veronica instinctively knew what Logan was trying to say, leaving her the key to this box, his box, his grandparents’ box.  Logan had been so lost when they were young.  Aaron had been more than a black cloud in his past, he had deprived Logan of an identity.  Deprived him of an identity as a son and as a man.  Veronica recalled all the snarky quips from a teenaged Logan that masked the deeper pain of not really knowing who you were.  Logan had been both terrified of becoming like his father and yet let at a loss for how to be a different man.  _Oh, Logan.  Don’t you know you’ve always been a better man than Aaron?  Even when you were only 12 and had to wear rash guards to hide the belt lashes?_ Veronica could understand why Logan cherished his grandparents’ keepsakes.  Not only were they sentimental, he finally had someone to look up to, a father figure who wasn’t a monster.  That must have meant everything to him, knowing he came from more than pure evil.  

Veronica was suddenly swept up with an urge to see Logan, to hug him close and tell him she loved him.  She grabbed her leather jacket and gently placed the picture of Lt. Lester in her jacket pocket.  As she threw the BMW into high gear and slammed her foot down on the gas pedal, all Veronica could think was _“I understand, Logan, I do and baby would be so proud of you.”_

_~~~~~_

Veronica didn’t drive to the base, she knew she wouldn’t make it in time to see Logan.  She drove straight toward a cliff overlooking San Diego Bay.   Logan had taken her there several times because it offered the perfect view of watching the jets take off from the base.  Now, all Veronica wanted was a chance to see Logan fly off. 

She pulled off the road and quickly walked down the small path, brushing aside large walls of honeysuckle until she emerged to a view of the bay.  She made it just in time to see the first pair of jets fly off toward the carrier. 

_To war and arms I fly._

She fancied she could see the distinctive black and red markings of the Super Hornets Logan’s squadron, the VFA-154 Black Knights flew. 

_A sword, a horse a shield._

Yes, Logan was flying into dangerous territory where dangerous men wanted to kill him.  But Veronica knew he was flying for a specific mission that had nothing to do with dropping ordinance or hitting military targets.  Logan was on a mission to be the kind of man he felt his child deserved, someone he or she could look up to, a man of honor.  As much as Veronica was scared and still somewhat angry to be left behind, she knew what Logan was trying to say.  He couldn’t be the man, the partner, the father he needed to be if he didn’t continue to do the job he felt called to do.  Logan had learned the true meaning of love through sacrifice; a selflessness Aaron had never dreamed of.

_I could not love thee, dear, so much; loved I not honor more._

Veronica watched several more pairs of jets fly off into the distance before she heard rustling in the honeysuckle behind her.

Keith Mars stuck his round, balding head through and smiled sympathetically at his daughter. 

“Hey, honey.” 

“Hey,” sighed Veronica in reply, too emotionally drained for much more. 

Keith sat silently beside her and they watched the last set of planes fly past them, shoulder to shoulder.  Then Keith spoke. 

“You know, Veronica, there was a time when I really wondered if going after Jake Kane and then staying in Neptune was the right thing to do.  We’d lost so much, _you’d_ lost so much, already. I really wondered if I was being a selfish father.”

“Dad –” Veronica interjected, surprised at this seemingly sudden change in topic and not wanting her father to reopen old wounds. Keith stopped her with a look and Veronica turned away, hanging her head. 

“Veronica, I stayed and fought in Neptune because I felt it was the honorable thing to do.  I refused to let the Kanes run us out of town because we had nothing to be ashamed of.  I chose to keep looking into the case, because I felt, that young girl, my daughter’s best friend, didn’t get justice and neither did Abel Koontz.  I stayed to fight because I felt I had to.  I thought, ‘If I didn’t, what kind of man would I be? What kind of example would I be setting? What kind of father would my baby have?” 

The silence hung heavily in the air between them for what seemed like hours. 

Then, Veronica, with lowered lashes, whispered, “You get Logan.” 

“Is that what the kids are calling it these days? Yeah, I “get” him.  He’s young, scared, he’s just learned he’s going to be a father, that he _is_ a father.  I know the feeling.”

Keith lifted Veronica’s chin up, forcing her to meet his eyes, “Let me tell you one thing, kid.  A guy always wants to be a better man for the woman he loves…but there’s nothing that will light a fire under his ass to _actually_ _be_ a better man than waiting for his first child.”

Veronica wiped a stray tear from the corner of her cheek and sniffed slightly.  She nodded quietly and turned back toward the parked cars. 

Keith slung an arm around his little girl and let her rest her head on his shoulder as they walked in tandem. 

“Wait, how did you know I was here?” asked Veronica suddenly, brows quizzically furrowed.  “In my hurry I left my phone at home.” 

Keith hugged her a little closer

“Oh number one daughter, maybe one day I’ll share all the secrets of the Mars Master.  In the meantime, let’s focus on number one granddaughter, here! Don’t you have an ultrasound in a week or so?  Need someone to drive you?”

“Dad, you don’t know it’ll be a girl and I can drive myself.”  Veronica paused, then added, “But if you want to come along, I’d appreciate it.” 

Keith smiled and bent down a little toward Veronica’s still flat abdomen.

“Who’s your Granddaddy?” 

Veronica rolled her eyes. 

OoOoOoOo

Logan was hyperaware of his body, it was a part of pilot training.  He knew when his heart rate increased, when it fell.  Right now, he was afraid he was headed toward a tachycardia as he stared down at the words:  _To Logan, from Prison._

He slowly opened the envelope and pulled out a plain white card.  On the front was written, in Veronica’s small neat handwriting, several lines of script and Logan leaned closer under the light to read it, heart still pounding out of his chest.  There, written in blue inked cursive writing, were the words:

 

_Stone Walls do not a Prison make,_

_Nor Iron bars a Cage;_

_Minds innocent and quiet take_

_That for an Hermitage._

_If I have freedom in my Love,_

_And in my soul am free,_

_Angels alone that soar above,_

_Enjoy such Liberty._

Logan immediately grasped Veronica’s meaning.  That was the hallmark of their relationship, despite all their misunderstandings and missed voicemails, they could read each other’s souls.  Logan knew his Veronica, knew she was a runner; that she was afraid of being trapped where she didn’t want to be.  He had been so afraid that Veronica would view the Navy and their baby, as being trapped in a life she hadn’t planned for herself and therefore didn’t want.  This relieved all of his fears.  This was Veronica telling him, in a perfect bookend to his grandfather’s poem, that she loved him and that in that love, she would never feel trapped.  

The anchor that had been so tightly chained to his chest suddenly sublimated into thin air.  Logan had never felt so light in his life. He wanted to run out into the flight deck, jump in his plane and go supersonic. 

Then he remembered the card again and as he opened it for the first time, his choked back a small sob.  There, taped to the inside of the card was the grainy, black and white, totally incomprehensible yet utterly recognizable image of a sonogram.  On the opposite side were the words:

 

_Baby Echolls, scheduled to land 5/14/2020._

_Come back to us, Daddy!  Mommy and I are waiting._

_Always._

 

~~~

 

**A/N:  The picture of Logan’s grandfather, I based off of a picture of Lt.j.g. Tom Hudner in his Corsair F4U fighter.  The story of Lt. Hudner is a pretty amazing one, he was awarded a Congressional Medal of Honor.  His story sounded like something Logan would definitely do.  It’s worth a Google search.  Lt. Hudner’s also super hot in 1952 and reminded me of Logan, so yeah…..that too.  http://community.warplanes.com/tag/tom-hudner-f4u-corsair/**

**I’m definitely not a military expert or have any experience being in a military family, so I apologize for any inaccuracies.  I can only imagine the sacrifices they make for the sake of love and honor and I couldn’t hope to do them justice, so I only hope I didn’t do them any abuse or offense.   I did take some artistic license to make things more dramatic, like watching Logan fly off from the cliff, which wouldn’t be entirely realistic, logistically or geographically.**

**The poem Veronica finds is written by 17 th century poet, Richard Lovelace, entitled _To Lucasta, Going to the Warres_.  I’ve always loved this poem and the depth of meaning behind its interpretation of the tension between ‘honor’ and ‘love.”  Edith Warton would later borrow Lovelace’s heartfelt words to create a beautiful English estate called ‘Honorslove’ in her unfinished novel, ‘The Buccanneers’; which was later made into a miniseries and is worth a Google as well.  The stanza Veronica sends to Logan is the last section of a Lovelace poem entitled, _To Althea, from Prison_.  While seemingly unrelated, it is suspected that Lovelace wrote both poems to his lover, Lucy Sacheverell.  Sadly, legend has it that Lucy Sacheverell married another after being wrongly informed of Lovelace’s demise in the English Civil War. In my own mind, I’ve always felt that Logan and Veronica’s separation on his deployments aligned with Lovelace and Lucy’s separation by war with all the potential for their heartbreak.  I like to think that Lucy never read Lovelace’s words from prison or perhaps she would have never married another.   The hopeless romantic in me wanted to join Logan and Veronica in a mutual expression of love through lines that I fancy the fates denied Lovelace and Lucy.  So….To Lovelace and Lucy, may they Honor the Liberty of Love in Heaven as they could not on Earth.**

 


End file.
